


Transit

by Mayclore



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Bus, Candy, Gen, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 14:17:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayclore/pseuds/Mayclore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two twins, one bus, several hours, and twenty dollars worth of empty calories. An accounting of the Pines twins' odyssey from Piedmont, California to Gravity Falls, Oregon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transit

"Byeeeeee! I love you guys!"

Dipper nudged his sister for the third time, trying to get her to remove her waving, jumping body from the doorway before the bus driver kicked them off or slammed the thing on her in frustration. "Mabel, come on. I think this guy's mad at us."

She yanked her arm away and peered at him from under her awful pink visor. "Tryin' to say goodbye to mom and dad here, bro."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, trying one more time to urge her into the aisle with his other hand. "You have. Three times. I think they get the message."

An annoyed grunt slipped through her metal-clad teeth, but she picked up her luggage and started to waddle down the corridor. Sighing with relief, he pursued, mentally determining which blue cloth seat to sit in. Mabel made that decision for him, plopping down in the window seat of a row about two-thirds of the way back on the left side. Shaking his head, he tried to put his own bags on the overhead rack.

"Havin' some issues?" she giggled, watching him wobble back and forth with a suitcase above his head. She could see his arms trembling under the weight. "Just put them in front of the seats, dork. Lots of room."

"There is a rack up here for luggage and so help me I will use it," he countered, fighting gravity with all his limited might. After two minutes of trying to throw the suitcase up there – the last instance of which earned him a collision between handle and face – he gave up and slid the cases beside Mabel's. "Why in the heck would they put them in  _freaking orbit_  if they wanted people to use them? It makes no sense!" he complained, shedding his backpack and dropping it alongside the rest of his stuff.

"My bro has chipmunk muscles." She could hardly get the words through her stifled laughter. His pointed look only made her giggling fit worse. "Lift something besides a book and your PSP and maybe you wouldn't be havin' these problems, yo."

During this exchange, a handful of other people boarded. Many of them took seats ahead of the twins, but one older boy chose a spot even farther to the rear. The doors closed with a sharp hissing noise, and before long they were all trundling above Oakland on the MacArthur freeway. They only really began to go north as Interstates 580 and 80 met, and the land submitted to one of the many corners and nooks of San Francisco Bay. All of the passengers settled comfortably into their own quiet little bubbles for the journey.

Mabel Pines was burdened by no such concept. "Dipper! OMG! Look at that adorable little boat!" She pressed her face against the glass and waved furiously, causing her brother to facepalm behind her. "Boat! Hi! I sure do see your cute little sail with the strawberry on it!"

"I'm gonna be certifiable before I even  _reach_  the state of Oregon," he muttered, trying to ignore her ramblings and focus on one of the many books he'd packed to pass the trip.

They soon dropped off of 580 and merged on to 80, heading north into the city of Richmond. Mabel got a little less jumpy as the ocean retreated from view, but that didn't stop her from pointing out the scenery as they went. "Ooo, the Hilltop Mall! We should totally go there after we get back and buy me some clothes with dad's money."

A blank-faced Dipper looked up and over from his book. "Mabel, you knit your own sweaters. What else could you possibly need to buy?"

"Hey, I can't wear sweaters all the time." Her look was serious enough for long enough to convince him she was being truthful; once she saw that register in his eyes, she blew an obnoxious raspberry and started laughing. "Of course I can! You completely fell for it!"

"I'm surprised you haven't died due to heat stroke," he sighed, eyes dropping back to his book. His cheeks tinged red with the blush of defeat, but there was still a smile on his face. "Come and get your fried Mabel! I bet you taste like glitter."

"I'm magically delicious!" she chirped, staring at the back of the seat ahead of her with a vacant happiness that made Dipper snort.

Richmond fell away shortly afterward, yielding to a sparse, arid landscape. The next thing that caught the excitable girl's attention was the huge oil refinery that dominated the left side of the interstate. "Hey, Dip? What's in those really big white cans?"

He looked up and out the windows as the massive tanks went past. "I dunno. Probably crude oil. Maybe gasoline and some other stuff."

Her face brightened; a commendable accomplishment, given how sunny her default look was. "Wouldn't it be  _awesome_  if they all suddenly exploded?!" she blurted out, arms raised.

Dipper's jaw slammed into the floor. "Are you crazy? We'd be dead right now!"

She regarded him with much the same goofy look as she did the back of the seat. "Yes, but  _fire."_

He was put off enough to mark his page and close his book. "Mabel, can I ask you a favor?"

"Sure!"

He stared at her with faint worry in his eyes. "Would you mind not somehow murdering me over these next two months?"

"Dipper! I would never do such a thing," she huffed, folding her arms and glaring at him. "Just because I like explosions doesn't mean I want you to explode."

"But that's basically what you just said," he pointed out, watching one last row of tanks move by.

She was fuming, but he could tell that her anger was mocking at worst. Turning away from him, she started looking for something else to talk about. "No, you just kinda assumed I meant that because you're a dork."

"I'm the dork for not wanting to burn to death?" he asked. When she didn't answer him, he started jabbing her in the shoulder with a finger. "You just don't want to admit I'm right about what you said."

She turned around, once more wearing a dopey smile. "Nope. You're always right, whatcha need me to say it out loud for?"

"Just checking." Dipper heaved a sigh of relief and went to pick up his book. Not long after they had crossed the Carquinez Strait, something outside caught his attention. "Hey, look," he said, snapping his fingers. Mabel's head began snapping around as she looked. "Whoa, hold on. Wait a second." The bus traveled over Interstate 780, finally giving him a good view. "See that huge patch of dirt?"

She nodded so hard that Dipper had to place a hand on her back to keep her steady. "Yeah!"

He sprung his trap with a wry smile. "That's a lake."

" _Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat_?" Mabel slammed her hands onto her cheeks and gawked. "Lakes are supposed to have water! Where's the water, man?!"

"You know, global warming or whatever. Never seems to rain enough to fill it anymore. I forget what it's named." He was nose deep in his book, trying hard not to bust out laughing at the confused noises coming from Mabel. Every once in a while, he would glance up at the suburban landscape traveling by.

"That poor lake," Mabel whined. "It's like me without all my cute greatness. Can you even imagine if I were boring like you?"

"Gee, thanks," he muttered. She heard it anyway, and in an instant was clinging to him. "Hey. Enjoying my vest down there?"

Her tone was cheerfully apologetic, and also muffled by the fabric and stuffing. "I didn't mean boring, boring. I meant...heck, I dunno. Give me a big word that means boring but not really boring."

"Introverted?" he offered, making a face at her ridiculous pink visor.

Mabel looked up, beaming so wide her braces caught sunlight from the opposite set of windows. "Yeah! No idea what it means, but it is the  _most_  perfect word."

Other passengers were chuckling by now. Dipper blushed at the attention, and went to petting Mabel on the head. "Oh, you."

The city and the ocean were left behind not long afterward, becoming a much larger expanse of arid land than that which featured the refinery. Clouds came into view through the bus' front glass, but they appeared to be many miles ahead.

The sight spurred Dipper's curiosity. "Hey, Mabel, does it never not rain in Oregon?" he asked, nudging her in the side with his left elbow.

"I dunno, rain is boring." Her hands were latched onto the toes of her shoes, lifting them up and down. It was the classical 'Mabel is getting disinterested with your reality' motion.

Dipper's pragmatism was beginning to take hold, and that lead to a minor form of worry. "Did either of us pack an umbrella?" He bent over and grabbed at his suitcase, trying to rotate the heavy thing to a more upright position and open it.

"Oh, stop. We're supposed to be having fun!" She watched him fuss with his luggage, finally growing so annoyed she starting raining pokes down on him. "You did the same thing about the sunscreen all the way to the bus station. Relax!"

"There is literally a glowing ball of cancer in the sky, Mabel. We have to protect ourselves." He couldn't get his case opened and fell back into the seat with a perturbed sigh. "I guess I'll be fine. I have a hat."

"So do I!" Mabel cheered.

"No, you have a fraction of a hat that doesn't even cover the most important parts of your head," Dipper replied with a smirk.

The ocean was long gone now, but the landscape sprouted more buildings soon enough. As they left Interstate 80 and drove north on Interstate 505, these yielded to the organized green rows of farmland. These verdant patches were still buffered by empty, brown space on one side of the highway. Buildings were now few and far between. A gulf of empty, sandy dirt had to be crossed before they merged onto the road that would consume a large portion of the distance of their journey.

Dipper thought it was an occasion that deserved to be marked. "Hey, we're on Interstate 5 now." He got a 'so what' look from his sister that caused him to shrink back. "Just saying."

"Roads are boring, Dip." Mabel yawned loudly, not even bothering to try and cover her mouth. "Let's do a thing!"

He rubbed his chin and shrugged. "Like what?"

"Um um um um..." Her eyes drifted outside, where cars were zipping past them in the other lanes. "How about we make faces at people?"

That earned her a bitterly reluctant expression. "What if that causes a car accident?"

Mabel's face went blank as she turned back to her brother. "Dipper, you are a worrying motherbleeper, you know that?"

"You know mom says I have anxiety issues," he grumbled, folding his arms and wearing his best pout. "Doesn't matter. My concerns are legitimate."

"Gesundheit," she said, smiling at the large word. "Fine, we can do something  _safe_  and  _dull_  and whatever. Any ideas?"

After thinking for a minute, tapping his chin, then emitting an adorably thoughtful noise, his eyes lit up. "Did you pack your cards?"

"I think?" She fell out of her seat and onto her luggage, arms flailing as she tried to find the zippers. She succeeded in opening the green, rainbow stickered one first. Her head disappeared almost completely into the bag for a moment. "Hrm. Cards. Cardssss. Oh! Found them!" Deck in hand, she popped up and started shuffling. "What should we play?"

"Go fish," he replied. His book now served as a makeshift table to hold the undealt cards, resting on the seat between them. Mabel flipped seven to him, then seven to herself, and their game commenced. "Hrm. Got any sixes?"

"Dang it." Mabel forked over the six of clubs.

Dipper scanned his hand, face twisting in contemplation. "Jacks?"

Mabel flashed him a metallic grin. "Go fish!"

He drew a card from the stack – the four of hearts – and inserted it. "Your turn. Hey, how much do you know about uncle Stan?"

Her smile downgraded itself to a half-smirk as her brain went to work on the contest at hand. "He wears a weird hat and smells like old people. Got any aces?"

Dipper glanced out the window as a tractor trailer roared past. "Go fish. I know that stuff, I mean...what's he like? Mom and dad didn't really give us a detailed biography."

"I dunno." She drew her card and squeaked happily. "I got one!" she said, showing Dipper the ace of hearts. "Um...got any tens?"

His eyes dropped down to his cards. "Ugh." He handed her the ten of diamonds and scratched under his hat. "I mean, I remember last Christmas and all, but I didn't talk to him much. He seems pretty grumpy."

"Dipper, most people get grumpy when they're old," Mabel stated, rolling up her sweater sleeves. "I guess, anyway. I'm sure he'll be delightful! Got any eights?"

"Shoot," he hissed, losing two of his cards to her request. He watched her set down the full suite of eights with a smile. "Delightful? He tried to make me wax his car."

"But he was only at our house for like, three hours." Mabel's eyes rolled around as she recalled the holiday. "I remember lots of grunting. Got any nines?"

"Go fish." Dipper looked out the window again; they were just crossing the McCloud River. The land here changed drastically, becoming crumpled folds of earth covered by all sorts of trees. It was the most isolated leg of their journey so far, too. Past the road, there were barely any signs of life. The road got curvier, forcing one twin or the other to keep the book-table steady. "And what's supposed to be in his house that's so awesome?"

"I heard he has a Bigfoot statue in underwear." Mabel lost her composure to a peal of giggles. "I can't wait to see it. What card you want, bro?"

"Queens?" Instead of blurting out anything, she just shook her head. "Ugh." He drew a card, which turned out to be the queen of clubs. "Heh, nice." While deciding what to ask for next, another thought crossed his mind. "What about the town?"

She was whistling an inane tune, even bobbing her head in time with a beat only she could hear. "I wasn't really paying attention when mom talked about it, 'cause there was a kitten running down the sidewalk and being all cute and distracting."

Dipper was somehow not at all surprised. "Figures. Sevens?" he decided at last.

"Gooooooooo fish!"

What should have been a five minute game stretched on to thrice that length, yet they still managed to fit eight more rounds in as the empty miles piled up. Dipper only noticed how much time had passed when Mabel blurted out something about an airport that was too close to the road. A small town followed quickly, then after that their last match ended as they passed by Black Butte. Just beyond, the bus left Interstate 5 and started following US Highway 97. It didn't get very far, however, before coming to a halt at a large gas station just off the freeway.

Everyone else on the bus got up and left, happy to have a chance to stretch their legs. Dipper did the same, but stopped in the aisle when Mabel didn't follow. "You coming? We should go ahead and get lunch. I don't think there's much past here for a while."

"I would, but I don't think I can stand," she replied with a whine. "Legs? Hello?"

He couldn't help but chuckle as he went back to pull her out of the seat. "Come on. You've got the money for food, right?"

"Nope!" she said, so chipper he thought she'd actually answered in the affirmative.

"Great, let's—wait, what? You don't?" He stopped dead in his tracks in the aisle once he realized just what she'd said, then looked back over his shoulder.

"Mom didn't give me any money. I thought she gave it to you." Mabel hopped in place, urging the blood to flow to her legs. "Yay, burning needles of sensation!"

Dipper's face blanched with panic. "Mabel, if we don't have any cash we won't be able to eat until we actually  _get_  to Gravity Falls." His stomach rolled unhappily, forcing him to put a hand on it. "I hardly had anything for breakfast!"

Mabel waved at the driver as he left the bus, then stared at her nervous sibling. "Calm down, sheesh. She probably tucked it into one of our bags. You know how she is."

Some relief arrived, then confusion barged in as it dawned on him that Mabel had just made genuine sense. "Yes! Yes. Just gotta find it." He went to work, opening his duffel bag and rummaging through it. "Uh, not in here."

Meanwhile, Mabel was searching her purple rolling suitcase, which had about a million pockets of various sizes on the outside. A symphony of zippers filled their ears, which abruptly stopped after a few a seconds. "Welp, I found two twenty dollar bills." She held them up, looking at him for confirmation of her discovery.

"Oh thank goodness." Dipper exhaled deeply, taking one of the bills and shoving it into his shorts pocket. "Let's go see what they've got." He walked off the bus, a skipping Mabel close by his side as they traveled through the parking lot. The artificial chill that greeted them in the store knocked the wind out of him briefly. "Geez. A penguin must be running this place."

Mabel was off like a shot, tearing through the aisles. Muttering to himself, Dipper gave chase. He found her exactly where he expected: near the back wall where the drinks were stored, staring at a display of candy on the end of one of the shelves.

"No," he said, walking up to her. "Mabel. No. No."

She ignored him, eyes the size of car tires as she took in the variety of sugary treats. "Twenty bucks worth of candy..."

" _For the love of_ _Charles Dickens_ _, no_. Besides, you're not supposed to eat sugar on an empty stomach! You know what mom-" He fell silent as Mabel gently placed her hands on his cheeks, turning his head to look at her.

She stared directly into his eyeballs at nose range. "Dipper, mom isn't here. We're in charge of our well-being until we get to Oregon. We have the  _poweeeer._ "

"And you want to use that power to put yourself into a sugar coma?" She nodded with a huge smile. "Of course you do. I'm not gonna let you. Someone has to protect you from yourself."

"Lame." Mabel let go of his face and stalked off, the soles of her shoes squeaking against the gray tile. Glancing around, she saw a sign near the front of the store that made her smile again. "Hey! Look! You can buy cheap gas station hot dogs for a dollar!"

He walked up to her, also gazing at the sign. "You're plotting something and I do  _not_  like it."

"Hear me out. You could buy like, six of those, a couple of sodas, and still have money left over for chips. And that would leave me all the money for  _all the candy_!" An urge to dance overcame her, which she satisfied by spinning around in a wobbly circle instead.

Dipper didn't share her unbridled enthusiasm. He folded his arms and groaned. "So you want me to spend all my share to feed both of us while you get drunk off Snickers and Reese's cups."

She stopped whirling with a flourish, only to end up having her back turned to him. "Yes!"

His shoulders dropped, as did his head after a second. "Fine. I guess we have the right to enjoy ourselves on this trip."

An echoing trail of cheers followed Mabel as she celebrated her victory all around the store, leaving Dipper to purchase their lunch. Just as he got to the counter, she suddenly appeared with her arms chock full of various packages of sweets. Those were dumped onto the counter top. Before long, they were back on the bus.

"Candy candy candy candy candy!" Mabel chattered, bouncing in her seat.

"Eat a hot dog first, for my sake." Dipper pulled two out of the white paper bag, handing her one. "Probably gonna save the chips for later. You want any now?"

Mabel already had her hot dog halfway jammed into her mouth. "Nofe, juf gimme my sodah pweafe."

Dipper couldn't help but stare at her for a second before granting her request. "...right." The other passengers were filing back on, the driver arriving not far behind them. He had just started to eat when the bus pulled out and back onto the highway. "Huh, these are pretty good." When he next looked over, Mabel was pouring a bag of Skittles down her throat. "Slow down! You're gonna choke!"

"These taste awesome with Sprite!" she said to no one in particular. Her eyes were already bulging with the influx of sugar.

Dipper cast his eyes to the ceiling. "Please help me."

By the time they were done eating, the bus was departing the empty desert and entering another tract of farmland. The greenery here was arranged in circles instead of squares. Mabel thought it was the most hilarious thing she had ever seen.

"How do they train the grass and stuff to grow like that?" she asked. It was clear that she was in the midst of a hellacious sugar high.

"Plants kind of sprout wherever the water lands." Dipper was reading again; rather, he was trying, but his sister was pegging the needle on the hyperactivity meter. "I don't think you can even train a plant."

"Don't call the plants stupid! Plants have feelings just like the rest of us!" Her face was pressed against the glass as she looked out. "He didn't mean it, rolling fields of whatever you are."

Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to fight off the approaching headache. "I'm so glad you can't open those."

Suddenly she was grabbing his arm, pointing to the landscape. "Dipper! Where are all the buildings?!"

"Most farms aren't in towns, Mabel."

The look on her face betrayed exactly how dumb she thought that statement was. "But if they were, you could like take the food and junk from the field and right to the market!"

Dipper had to turn the page with his free hand, a movement that was awkward enough to make him grumble. "Granted, but you wouldn't have much room to grow the food in the first place."

Mabel was doing everything short of licking the window once more. "Gardens aren't that big!"

"We're not talking about gardens, we're talking about..." That's when it struck him. He finally paid attention to the empty surroundings. "Man, you're right. This place is pretty desolate."

His determination was an understatement. The bus had entered Oregon some time ago, but they didn't see a town again until Klamath Falls, at which point the left side of the road was braced by a truly immense lake. The dry land was empty, however, save for the spaces between the road and the water that housed some more crops. The right side was a vast expanse of trees and nothingness.

"Ducks!" Mabel proclaimed, waving out the window. "Quack. Hee hee hee, quack quack quack."

"They can't hear you," Dipper said idly. He was struck by the gobs of space; for someone that had grown up surrounded by Oakland, room was a faintly alien concept. "Man, this is almost creepy."

It only got worse. They drifted north away from the lake, where dead squares of abandoned farmland had been hewn from the terrain. Mile after mile of desolation greeted his sight.

"This is boring!" Mabel yelled, snapping him back to reality. "Dipstick! Let's play poker!"

He folded his arms and glared at her. "Don't call me that, and do you even know how to?"

"Hey! Hey. Hey. Heeeeeeey." Every time she spoke, she pointed a finger accusingly at his nose. "I watched that ESPN or whatever for five minutes when I had a cold and got too lazy to press the remote buttons. I can bluff your big blind like a pro!"

"You have no idea what you just said, do-" He yelped with surprise as she hurled the entire deck of cards right at his face. "Ow!"

"Let's go!" she demanded. Before he could even collect the cards, she had slumped back against her seat, snoring.

"Finally." Dipper looked past her at the sun, which was just low enough to be seen if he bent down and craned his neck back up. His attention went back to the scenery. "Where  _is_  everybody?"

Four more miles of nothingness lead him to boredom, at which point he shrugged and went back to his book. Time slipped past much faster as he read, until a strange feeling prodded at him. "Huh?" He looked to his left. Mabel was gone.

"Dipper!" she yelled from behind, waving as he turned. She was sitting next to an older teenager in an Oregon football shirt and blue jeans, whose boonie hat covered most of his dirty blonde hair. "I made a bus friend!"

"Oh no," he sighed, hiding his eyes. Setting his book aside, he got up and walked back. "Mabel, leave the poor guy alone."

She unleashed a tremendous stream of consciousness once he got there, gesticulating as she spoke. "His name is James and he's going to Eugene to see his sister at the University of Oregon 'cause he's a good brother and oh I have a brother too this is him his name is Dipper Dipper hey come here oh you are here hi!"

"I am so sorry," he said, looking at James. He got a shrug in response, and a wry smile. "How much candy did she eat while I wasn't looking?"

The teen started counting it off on his fingers. "Bag of Skittles, bag of Reese's Pieces, like, a whole pack of gum, a Three Musketeers bar, and at the end I think there was a Snickers?"

"I can see the sky through the ceiling!" Mabel interrupted, reaching up. "I have bus penetrating vision!"

Dipper slapped his forehead and groaned. "Um. Mabel, let's go sit with me where it's safer for everyone else, okay?"

Mabel was open-mouthed and drooling as her brother hauled her back up the aisle. "I can feeeeeeeeeeel your voice. It's like velvet and kittens and cactuseseseses." She fell limply into her seat and started to wiggle around. "Are we there yet?"

"Oh please no," Dipper growled, placing a hand over her mouth.

Undeterred, she started talking through it. "Mmph meh foom rmph!"

"No. Whatever you just said, no." He searched through the paper bag for another of the drinks he'd bought. "Here, drink some Gatorade. Maybe it'll help you detox a little faster."

Mabel snatched the bottle from him and thwacked his hand off of her face. He actually winced as she guzzled it down much faster than any normal person should have been able to. Once the bottle was empty, she emitted a rattling belch and dried off her lips. "Tastes like bees!"

Dipper stared at her in disbelief. "Wow. I am genuinely impressed with whatever you've done to your brain."

Convinced that she had been reduced to a quivering, babbling, but  _immobile_  wreck, he went back to reading. Sure enough, after a half an hour she seemed to be coming down from her high, but was shaking like a leaf. "You okay over there?" he had to ask, blinking at her state.

"I g-g-g-g-gotta pee," she stuttered, curling up into a ball.

He looked back over his shoulder at the restroom the bus didn't have. "Oh...uh. You're just gonna have to hold it. We should be almost there."

"I really  _really_  need to pee," she reiterated forcefully, pinning him down with huge eyes.

While sympathetic to her plight, all he could offer was a sad shrug. "Sorry. I can't help you." When she unfurled and crawled over, grabbing him by the shirt collar, he drew back until the armrest stopped him. "Mabel?"

"If I explode, tell mom and dad I loved them," she whispered, laying on every ounce of dripping romantic movie drama she could to her tone.

He rolled his eyes. "You're not going to explode." The image of such an event appeared in his brain, causing him to shudder. "Ew. Just, no. Hold it. You'll be fine."

"Gotta goooooooooooo," she whispered, right into his nostrils.

Helpless, Dipper decided to match her dramatic air. "Be strong, sis. You have to be strong," he muttered, detaching her hand from his shirt.

Outside, the landscape was crinkling up again. Coniferous trees of all sorts swallowed the highway, growing so thick they formed a wall of green and brown. Dipper and Mabel were caught in a circular conversation about the latter's need to relieve herself when the driver interrupted from above.

"Next stop, Gravity Falls."

He nodded approvingly and grinned at her. "See? I told you."

"Gonna go boom," she whined, rocking back and forth in her seat.

A town appeared moments later, framed from behind by a split open cliff with a railroad bridge that traversed the gap. Dipper peered out the windows with much interest, if only to ignore the whining from Mabel behind him. They pulled into the small terminal, causing her to grunt with the shift in momentum.

"Bathroom!" she screeched, rocketing off the bus like her hair were on fire. Dipper would have been crushed under the weight of both their luggage had James not helped him off. After they parted ways, he sat on a bench to wait for Mabel to return.

As he did, he took a moment to contemplate his new home for the next two months. "Man, it smells like pine needles and air freshener."

Mabel came stumbling up to him. "I'm good. What do we do now?"

He stood up, pointing to her bags. "We just catch a local bus to the...I forget what it's called. Mystery something."

To their surprise, they found out from the woman at the counter that a route actually ran directly to their uncle's house. Hauling their luggage along behind them, they wandered down the sidewalk to find a stop at which to wait.

"Sure is trees out here," she giggled. They settled on a wooden bench and got comfortable. "I'm excited!"

Dipper tugged at his hat and yawned. "Bleh. There's nothing around that seems very fun except that arcade place."

Mabel jabbed him in the ribs until he jerked away in pain. "Have some faith. I'm sure you'll find something to smile about."

A much dingier, smokier bus arrived. They climbed on and took seats near the front for what turned out to be a short ride through the trees and out of the town proper. In no time their uncle's house appeared in all its glory: gaudy sign on the roof, haphazardly attached additions, a random totem pole, and a beat up golf cart parked out front.

"Terrific," Dipper groaned. Mabel carried her bags off first, skipping all the way to the door despite the added weight. He was content to drag himself along, and after a few steps away from the departing bus he dropped his load and tried to catch his breath. "I can't breathe this air! There's no pollution in it!" Hunched over, he was getting a good look at the ratty grass, but not much else.

"Need some help, man?"

That was a girl talking, but she sounded somewhat older than Mabel. "If you wouldn't mind," he panted, wiping his brow. "I didn't think it got this humid up here." He only glanced over when she picked up his duffel bag, and found himself staring at the most gorgeous redhead he'd ever seen.

"No kidding, lake water makes it muggy. I'm Wendy, by the way." She snapped her free hand up in a wave, then snickered. "You probably figured that out from my name tag."

"Yeah, name tag!" he babbled, laughing nervously. She started back toward the house, but it took him some time for his brain to re-engage and make him move.

"You comin'?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Yep! Be right there!" He picked up his suitcase and grinned. "Okay, maybe this won't be quite as bad as I thought."


End file.
